Turned Tables
by crossroads18
Summary: Emma has started up with her eating disorders again, and Manny in the bed next to her's has an even bigger problem. She has to eat for two. Manny doesn't know how to tell Craig or the Nelsons that she's pregnant. How will she cope with the huge secret?
1. Chapter 1

I never knew that a thin blue line could change my life as much as it has. Of course, it's actually much more than that. There is another heart beating in my body, another brain, ten more fingers, ten more toes. I don't know how to tell anyone, but I feel like I have to. I know I have to. It's just that I don't think I can handle disappointing my parents again. Then again, I don't live in their house anymore, so it's not like they can just kick me out like last time. This is a bigger problem. My last big problem wasn't finalized...it was changable. This is irreversable.

I wish I knew how irreversable it really was that day. The day after Craig had fought with Ellie. The day after I wore the tight green top that was too low at the top, and too high at the bottom. The day that I knew I was doing something wrong. But we can't forget that I am Manuella Santos. I am the Queen of Wrong. Craig came over in the morning, as I sat outside in my way-too-embarrassing pajamas drinking coffee and reading a magazine. I even said the word, "jamies." Why couldn't I have just said pajamas like normal people? We talked for what should have been longer before he kissed me. Or I kissed him. Or we kissed each other. It doesn't matter that much. We kissed. It was sweet and farmiliar, and didn't feel wrong at all. It felt surprisingly right, as though my lips were meant to meet his again, sooner or later.

Craig must have hated my pajamas because he soon tore them off. Not necessarily tore, but you get what I'm saying. It was in the backyard, behind the playground-type-thing that Mr. Simpson had recently bought Baby Jack. We made sure no one was around, no one could see. I guess we weren't careful enough, though. That's when I felt the "wrongness" kicking in. I was thinking the whole time that I shouldn't be doing this. I should be sitting in front of this house with my coffee made by a member of the amazing, caring family inside, reading the magazine that I started out reading. I should not be back here with my ex, or maybe not ex, boyfriend, doing what I'm doing. I thought about JT and Liberty at one point, also. Liberty dashing out of class and into the bathroom to throw up, and walking around on her sore ankles. I thought of Ashley's song from a year or two back. "You say how sad. You say poor thing. But when it's you, it's something else. It's everything." I knew what was happening, somehow. I knew that in a few weeks, I would find out for sure that my thoughts were in fact, totally true.

So now I sat here, with a problem. A huge problem. A Mount Everest problem. A solar system problem, even. I pressed my hand to my stomach and held it, admiring the semi-flatness that I was critizing a few weeks ago. It was two months later. The time had gone so fast, with my mind virtually carefree. I didn't know that this massive complication was going to soon appear.

I hear Emma pit-patting down the stairs, the monkey slippers that I bought her covering her little ballerina feet.

"Hey, Manny." she says, easily. If I weren't me, I would look at her enviously. I would think she was without a care, or a problem. I would be jealous of her gorgeous, wavy blond hair, and her big, puppydog brown eyes. Her body looked flawless from anyone else's point of view. However, I am me. And because I am me, I know that there is more to Emma than her model body and her beautiful face. I know that her model body is not nearly that to her. I know that I suffered along with her through her eating disorders and insecurities.

"Hey, Em." She sat on her bed and folded her legs, Indian style.

"God, can you believe the English homework? I can't believe Ms. Kwan gave us this **huge **assignment already. Like, come on, give us a break, lady, we're still in summer mode."

"Mmhmm." I agreed, quietly and half-heartedly, spinning around the pregnancy test that I had hidden behind my back.

"You okay?" She asked, shoving Juicy Fruit into her mouth. I closed my eyes, partially because they stung. Partially because I feared that if I kept them open any longer, I couldn't stop tears from coming. I swallowed hard, and argued with myself in my head whether I should tell her or not. Maybe I should take another test? No. I had to tell her.

"Em, I need to talk to you."

* * *

Hey guys, thanks for reading. Let me know if you like it. Thanks :) 


	2. Chapter 2

"Okay. Is everything alright...?" Emma asked, scrunching her eyebrows. I pressed my lips together, still spinning the test behind my back.

"Not exactly."

"Manny, what the hell are you talking about?" Emma asked, her newfound short fuse coming to an end. I said nothing, and closed my eyes again, still spinning. Maybe if I spin it enough, the blue line will fade away? I began to speak, but only managed an "um" and a few "uh"s.

"You're making me nervous. Would you just tell me what's going on?"

"God, I'm trying, Em. It's not that easy." She noticed my hand. The hand hidden behind my back, the muscules in my arm moving from the spinning that I was still doing.

"What is that?"

"What?"

"What's in your hand, Manny?" I started to cry, slowly but surely. I spun the test a final time, and brought it out into clear view for my best friend to see. She did this chokey-kind-of-gasp and took it from my hand. She too, started to cry when saw the tiny line. She wrapped her too-skinny arms around me and we cried together. She asked no questions for awhile, soaking in the truth.

"How, um, how long?" She asked after twenty or thirty minutes.

"Like two months." I answered, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, smearing it with black mascara.

"Craig?"

"Mmhmm." I said, and restarted to cry. She nodded and hugged me tighter.

"It's okay." she kept saying. "It's okay."

That night, Emma and I slept in the same bed, huddled close together. I kept crying, but she became strong, saying comforting things now and then. I had gotten one of the many people that I had to tell over with. I still had Mr. Simpson and Ms. Nelson. My parents...And Craig of course. I wasn't sure which would be the hardest, but for some reason, I thought Emma would be the easiest of the six people it was imperative to tell. Even with thinking that Em would be the easiest, it was so hard. So hard to admit all the wrong I had done, and to come to terms with the fact that now I had to suffer the consequences. I would have to give up my acting job, my senior year, my dignity. I prayed that night before I finally fell asleep. I prayed that everything would be okay, and that my child would turn out alright, as Emma had, even though her mother was just sixteen when she had her. I thought that Ms. Nelson might take this very hard. I had become like her daughter, or at least, she had become like my mother, and now I was making the same mistake that she had seventeen years ago.

Ms. Nelson started her life over. She turned out perfectly fine. She had a smart and beautiful daughter, and a loving and caring husband. She even had a new baby that was lucky enough to be born into a family that would classify as dysfunctional but really isn't if you knew them like I do. It had become _my _family, too, afterall. It would be my baby's family, and that made me think that everything just might turn out okay.

I woke up early, by no choice of mine. I pulled on a sweatshirt and traveled quietly up the stairs, careful not to wake Emma. Mr. Simpson was sitting at the kitchen table, Jack in his lap, coffee in his hand.

"Good morninggggg, Sunshine." He said, happily. "Fresh coffee if you want it."

"Um, no thanks."

"No? That's not like you."

"Yeah...I don't know, I'm just more in a tea mood."

"Well, okay then. Whatever you want Miss Manny." I smiled at him, and kissed his cheek.

"You're different." He accused. Not harshly, more lovingly. I continued to smile, and said,

"That's what I'm aiming for."


	3. Chapter 3

Emma held my hand as we walked up the front steps of the house that used to be mine. I could just picture my parents sitting inside, sipping something hot, in front of the TV. My dad complaining about something or other, and my mom nodding along because that's just what she did. I cracked my fingers before I rang the doorbell. I pressed it lightly, and let go quickly. But I knew they heard it. I saw a shuffle of movement behind the distorted glass. It was my father that answered the door.

"Hi, Daddy." I said, looking at my feet. I wiggled my toes in my sneakers.

"Manuella." He answered, sounding like a mix of surprised, angry, and maybe even happy. My father was the king of expressing himself with simple words. It was the way he said them that got the point across.

"¿Quién es, miel?" I heard my mother call. I hadn't heard her voice in so long.

"Nuestra hija. Venga aquí."

"Manuella?" She called, louder. Soon, she appeared in the doorway, alongside my father. She was wearing one of her classic lumpy sweaters and the pants that aren't quite jeans, and aren't quite sweatpants. Like dresspants. The ones that she had about ten pairs of that were supposedly different colors, but they all looked the same to me. She had an apron on tied loosely around her neck and it was decorated with flour.

"Buenos dias, Manuella. ¿Por qué es usted aquí?"

"Well, Ma. I have to tell you guys something, and it's pretty important."

"¿Por qué trajo usted Emma?"

"Because she's my best friend, Ma, and I want her here with me when I tell you this. It's not like you've acted like parents, and proved to me that I can be comfortable alone around you." My mother looked puzzled when I said this. She looked at my father like he was the source of all imformation. She often did this when I said something to her in English that she didn't like, and she wanted to pretend like she didn't understand what I said. My father waved her off, as if what I had said wasn't important enough to translate into Spanish for her.

I sat inside my former house, on the couch I used to spend so much of my time on. I looked around, soaking in the scene that I hadn't seen in so long, and would not see, possibly ever again.

"What do you have to tell us?" My father asked, sitting on the chair, almost too far away from me. Almost.

"Do you, um, remember Craig?" I asked, pressing my lips together. My mom nodded her head, with her hand pressed to her cheek.

"Aye yaye yaye. Craig...¿Craig es un músico, verdad?" she asked. I nodded. "Ay Dios mio. No me gusta ya."

"Well, me and Craig, used to date."

"You say that like we don't already know, Manuella. You were not very good at sneaking around."

"Mr. Santos, please, just listen to what Manny has to say it'll..."

"Please, Emma. I know how to handle my own daughter." I actually laughed out loud at that one.

"If you can even call me your own daughter anyway. Mr. Simpson and Ms. Nelson might as well adopt me, they take care of me better than you ever did, anyway." I saw my mother start to fume from the corner of my eye.

"Manuella, get to the point or get out."

"Oh yeah. Silly me, I forgot that's what you do when you've had enough of me."

"Manuella!"

"OKAY! I'm pregnant. The end. Have a nice life." I grabbed Emma's wrist, and headed for the door, dragging her along.

"You're what." My father demanded.

"Pregnant, Dad. Pregnant as in I'm having a baby. Craig's baby, and Ma, you better not pretend you don't know what I'm saying because I know you do."

"Sí, hago. Usted está encinta. Con el bebé del músico. Y usted es una vergüenza. Salga de aquí. ¡Salga!" My mother screamed. I started to cry.

"Salga, Manuella. Nosotros no ti queremos aquí." My father chimed in.

"Okay. I'm leaving. I'll let you know when you have a grandchild."

"Don't bother." My dad added as I was almost out the door. I fell to my knees right on the front porch, and cried. Emma hummed softly, and rubbed my back, kissed my head, held me close. She let me cry on her, and then she brought me to my feet and told me we should get home. I looped my arm in hers and laid my head on her shoulder. I felt heavy. That shouldn't have made me heavy, it should have made me light. It should have taken a load off my shoulders. It would have...if it didn't go like that.

* * *

Spanish translations:

_¿Quién es, miel?_ - Who is it, honey?

_Nuestra hija. Venga aquí._ - Our daughter. Come here.

_Buenos dias, Manuella. ¿Por qué es usted aquí?_ - Good morning, Manuella. Why are you here?

_¿Por qué trajo usted Emma?_ - Why did you bring Emma?

_¿Craig es un músico, verdad? _- Craig is a musician, right?

_Ay Dios mio. No me gusta ya._ - Oh my God. I don't like it already.

_Sí, hago. Usted está encinta. Con el bebé del músico. Y usted es una vergüenza. Salga de aquí. ¡Salga!_ - Yes, I do. You are pregnant with the musician's baby. And you are a disgrace. Get out of here. Get out!

_Salga, Manuella. Nosotros no ti queremos aquí._ - Get out, Manuella. We don't want you here.


	4. Chapter 4

The Nelsons did not take it quite as hard as my real parents did. Or rather, my "biological parents." The Nelsons were more real than they ever were. Ms. Nelson wrapped me in her arms and ran her fingers through my hair as Mr. Simpson told me that it was okay, and that we would all get through it, as a family. I cried, just a little bit. I had been crying more often lately than I ever had in my life.

"How far along are you?" Ms. Nelson asked.

"Um like, almost three months."

"Okay, baby. We'll get through it, don't you worry." I nodded, and hugged her tightly. I looked at Jack, and he sat playing with a plastic boat. He looked happy. Content. Mr. Simpson saw me looking at the baby, and said,

"Well I guess Jacky-boy over there is gonna have a little friend sometime soon." I laughed lightly, through my tears and agreed. When Mr. Simpson left, Ms. Nelson asked me if it was Craig's baby.

"Yeah." I said, nodding. "It is."

"Are you two still dating?"

"Yeah...I haven't seen him in awhile. Not since I found out."

"When do you think you're gonna tell him?" She asked, sounding concerned. She wiped my tears away.

"I don't want to." I said, starting to cry harder. "I mean, I want him to know...but I just don't wanna tell him."

"Babe, I've been where you are. It's not easy, and I know it. You can take your time, but not too much. Craig needs to be there throughout the whole thing. And plus, you need to stop worrying, it's not good for the baby. You should try and get the weight off your shoulders as fast as you can. It'll get easier, I promise."

"Thank you...I don't know how to tell him. Or how to approach it. Everything is just so new, I feel like I'm starting life over. It's so weird..."

"Ugh, I know, Manny." she said, nodding, "You should bring him somewhere where it's quiet. Where it's just you two. You should look him in the eye and say you have something very important to talk to him about. And then, when you know he's really listening, you just have to tell him. Saying it simply is the best way. Don't beat around the bush, don't start out with the birds and the bees or anything, don't recall when it happened, don't say, 'Well, in a few months...' Just say, 'Craig, I'm pregnant.' It'll make it easier like that."

"What if he flips out?" I asked, leaning on my hand.

"He might. It's big news to him. Imagine how you felt when you first found out. He'll feel like that too. You might want to leave after you told him, give him time to vent."

"Okay. Thank you so much, Ms. Nelson." I hugged her for a long time.

"I know...that this might sound _very _cliche...but you can call me Mom if you're comfortable with it. You're like my daughter now, afterall." I cried harder, hugged tighter, and nodded my head.

After we talked about it, Ms. Nelson - or Mom - made it sound easier than I had been working it out to be in my head. I called Craig from my cell phone later that day, after giving my face to return to it's natural color and shape, rather than red and puffy.

"Hey, Manny." He said when he picked up the phone.

"Uh, hey, Craig. You think you can come over here tonight?" I asked him, with my eyes closed.

"I dunno, baby, I have to do this thing for Joey..." He answered, in a way that sounded honest.

"Craig, it's really important. I really have to talk to you." I pleaded.

"Um, okay, then. Is everything alright?"

"Kind of. Just come over, okay?"

"Yeah. I'm on my way." I breathed out heavily.

"Alright. See you soon."

"Yeeeup. Bye." I walked around outside, frantically waiting for him to show up in his chuga-chuga-chuga car. I heard it coming down the street in the ridiculously fast speed that only Craig drives at. I wiped under my eyes a final time, just to make sure, as he stepped out of the car and came to me. He kissed my forehead lightly when he reached me.

"Hey." I said, holding his hand.

"Hey." He said back. I sat him down on the front steps.

"Craig, I have something really important to tell you. And it's gonna be hard to grasp...but just hear me out, okay?"

"Sure," he said, holding my face in his rough hands.

"'I'm, uh, pregnant. I'm pregnant."

"What?"

"Um, do you remember when you came over here after your wedding gig and..."

"You're pregnant?" He asked, taking his hand away from my face. I nodded, with my head down. "For real?"

"Yeah, Craig. For real."

"Man...um, Manny, I've gotta go home and think about this." I nodded again, standing up. He even leaned over and kissed me on the cheek before he walked quickly to his car. He puched his mirror, and it broke. I saw the blood on his knuckles as he started to drive away. Halfway down the street, he stopped his car, and reversed it. He ran back to me.

"I love you. You know that?" he said, loudly.

"Craig..."

"I love you. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE MANUELLA SANTOS." He screamed at the top of his lungs to no one in particular. I smiled, and took his face in my hands, and kissed him.

"I love you, too." I said.

"I'm gonna take care of you." He whispered. "Okay? Don't you worry about anything. I love you." I nodded, and he dropped his arms around me. He pulled me close, and hugged me tighter than he ever had.


	5. Chapter 5

I go to school and act like things are normal everyday. No one has to know except the people that _have _to know. After I told Craig, I really grasped everything. I realized that in a few months, I would bring another human into the world. I would have someone to love forever and never worry about them leaving me. I would be responsible for someone other than myself. Sometimes it worries me, but other times, it's just so overwhelmingly amazing that I don't have time to worry. I spend a lot of my time in school thinking about the crib I'll buy, the gross flavored foods I'll buy, the stroller I'll buy. And most importantly, the name I'll have to pick out. There are so many complicated things that I try not to think about like child support, and everything, and will the baby's last name be Santos or Manning? Or Manning-Santos or something? I don't know.

Some days I hope it's a boy. I can just imagine a little mini-Craig with his shaggy brown hair and big eyes holding a little toy guitar. Other days, I hope it's a girl, so I can buy her little Barbies and play with her hair and stuff. But being a girl myelf, I don't know if I want to inflict another human being with this misery and insecurities that will undoubtably come eventually. But then again, "Mom" and Emma turned out way better than okay, and that makes me want to be able to have that same relationship. But I don't know, there's so many ups and downs.

Craig has been amazing, and I can honestly say I didn't expect him to be. I don't think I would be if I was him. I can't imagine all the talk he's taking in from his family. Everyone has been amazing, really. Except my parents, I haven't heard from them at all. I bet they tell people they don't even have a daughter anymore. She contracted A.I.D.S. from using an unsanitary heroin needle that she stole from her druggie girlfriend with Herpes and died. Or maybe they just forgot about me. I half hope so.

I'm two days before four months along right now. My stomach is really starting to expand, but no one is noticing. I wear basically only sweatshirts and sweatpants.Craig comes up to me in the hallway and hugs me, I think just to show me that he's still around or something. Whatever it is, I love it. He's like a totally new Craig.

Speaking of Craig, he came to the house the other day with his guitar in his hand and played me the best song he's ever written.

"Baby I dreamed about you

I'm thinking about you

I can't live without you and I,

I can't stop dreaming about you."

He didn't say anything, just sat down in front of the house, and plugged his guitar into the amp, and started to play. I was in the living room and heard it, so I went out on the porch, and low and behold, my boyfriend was there, playing a song for me. Emma came out, and wrapped her arms around me as we watched him play the guitar like it was as easy as writing his name. His voice isn't flawless, but his words are amazing that it blocks out everything else. He smiled his little half smile, and picked me up and spun me around. I kissed him lightly and thought about him with the child growing inside me. I wished I could think about that more often.

Then I had to go to school the next day, So I woke up this morning threw up right away. I drank water, and threw up again. I had to brush my teeth like four times and drink five glasses of water. I went to school nonetheless, and Craig drove me home. When we reached the house, he got out with me, and walked to the door.

"Manny," he started, so I turned around to look at him rather than turning the door to open it.

"Mmhmm," I said, looking him in his big color-changing eyes.

"Alright, don't say anything yet. Um, I'm gonna ask you something. And I've asked it to someone once before, and at the time, I didn't really like the answer I got. But now, I'm so happy that that's the answer I got, because if it wasn't...then I couldn't ask it to you. So," he kneeled down, and yet still, I couldn't piece it together.

"Manuella Santos, will you marry me?" he said, and opened a black velvet box. Inside, there was a ring with a diamond and a pearl on either side. I felt my throat close, and my eyes start to sting. My hands were sweating, my heart was racing. I nodded quickly.

"Yeah?!" he said, loudly.

"Yeah." I said back.

"YES! IT'S A YES PEOPLE!!! SHE SAID YES!" he screamed to no one. He kissed me and said, "It's a yes."


	6. Chapter 6

I would have never imagined in five lifetimes that I would be who I am today. Freshly turned seventeen, with a fiancee and a baby on the way. Living in a house with my best friend in her family, recently kicked out of my own home for wanting to get a boob job. Everything in my life has been so out-of-whack. I'm lucky in the unluckiest sort of way. Everything falls apart, and then sort of back into place. Like you open a puzzle, and put it together. After a while, some pieces come out of the mold. They somehow get wet, but you try and shove them back in anyway. They fit, but just barely. And even though the puzzle now looks complete again, things will never truly be the same.

Anyway, I'm kind of getting into the spirit of being pregnant. I did this little "Chinese Gender Prediction" test, and apparently I'm having a boy. I've been going to the doctor as much as I'm supposed to, but she's good friends with Ms. Nelson - Mom - and Mom told her not to tell me the sex. So I guess I'm just gonna wait. Craig is killing me because he wants to know so bad. But if I don't know, he sure isn't gonna know.

Just over five months, now. People know. Everyone's talking, but I'm ignoring them for the most part. It's not like I've never been talked about before. I'm used to it by now. I've gotten a lot tougher than I used to be, but I can't honestly say that I didn't break down the other day after school. It was the first Spirit Squad meeting in awhile. I was wearing Craig's big, baggy sweatshirt, and Darcy came over to me.

"Uh, where's your practice uniform, hun?"

"It's cold." I said, pulling the sweatshirt down at the bottom. Darcy smiled, slyly.

"No one else is cold, Manny. You need to wear your _practice_ uniform when we're at _practice_." She looked down at my stomach, smiled, and patted it. "No one else here is being self-concious, hun." I felt tears swelling in my eyes, and I couldn't stop them from falling.

"Look, Darcy. I can be self-concious if I need to. And I can wear this damn sweatshirt if I'm cold. I am the coreographer and you can't tell me what to do." I said, babyishly. I stomped off into the locker room, grabbed my stuff, and left. I called Emma and she came and picked me up. She just wiped my eyes and hugged me quickly. She ignored everything.

"So um, I was thinking of Dolores if it's a girl." She said, "It means..."

"Sorrows." I finished for her.

"Yeah. Do you like it?"

"Not really." I told her, honestly. She pressed her lips together, nodded, and started to drive. I put my hand on hers, showing her, or at least I hoped I was, showing her that I really did appreciate that she cared. Not only was she looking for names, she was even thinking of Spanish ones to make me happy.

Later that night I got a call from Mia.

"Hey, this is Mia, is Manny there?"

"Oh, this is Manny. Hi, Mia."

"Hey, I was wonderinggg if mayybbee you could um, babysit Isabella tonight? I know it's short notice, and I'm so sorry but-"

"No, no, it's okay. How long will you be out?"

"Just a few hours. I'll be home by ten."

"Okay, no problem. Uh, do you want to just drop her off here?"

"That'd be great. I'll be there in about half an hour. Thank you so much, Manny."

"It's nothing."

I babysat Isabella for nothing. One, because Mia was my friend, and I wanted to help her, and two, because after I have my own baby, I won't get paid for taking care of him. Or her. Mia showed up in half an hour like she said, with Bella perched on her hip. She had to go quickly so she just handed the baby and a diaper bag over, told me a little about what the baby needs and everything, hugged me, and dashed out the door. I decided as I was taking care of Bella that I would become much closer friends with Mia. There was no reason why I wouldn't, and she has more experience with babies than I do, other than my taking care of Jack. But that is less than part-time, and I know, being Bella's mom is a full-time job. An over-time job even.

Isabella was tired, and slept most of the time. She cried when she woke up, but she was fine after I gave her her bottle, and danced around with her a little bit. I wondered if all babies were this easy, but I decided they probably weren't. Isabella was like an angel. I asked Mia about her name when she came back to the house at ten to pick Bella up.

"Where did you get her name? Did you just like, pick it out out of the blue, or is it someone in your family or something? I mean, I always just wonder about-"

"Manny." Mia said, looking me in the eye. "Are you pregnant?" I gasped, suddenly, oddly unable to breathe. I opened my mouth to speak, but I realized I had no idea what to say. I just totally forgot that she didn't know, that next to no one knew. I couldn't lie to her. She should know anyway. But was I ready to tell anyone else? I closed my eyes.

"Yeah...I am." Mia looked at me with an expression I couldn't make out. Maybe empathy, realization, clarity. Maybe sympathy, protectiveness. Maybe even love. She pulled me into a hug and cried into my shoulder as I cried into hers.

"I'll help you through it, Manny. I've been where you are." She told me, still in our hug, rubbing my back with her palm.

"Please don't tell anyone." I pleaded.

"Don't worry. I wouldn't dream of it."

Mia stayed over that night, with Isabella fast asleep. We stayed up in the family room, careful not to wake Emma or the rest of the family. We talked quietly the whole night. She told me everything from the moment she found out she was pregnant to this day. She said she got Bella's name from reading. She read this series of books when she was younger, and the main character's name was Jaqueline Isabella Marquez. She would go on kind of missions to help people out, and she would always say, "I'll get you through this or my name isn't Jacqueline Isabella Marquez." The name stuck with Mia and she thought she might as well name her baby something that meant something to her. Isabella's middle name is Maria. Mia said that Maria is the original form of her own name.

"I don't know...I just kind of want this baby to be like, a starting over point, you know? I don't know if I want to connect it's name with anything from the past." I told her.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Maybe you should go with that feeling. Just don't name it anything you'll probably regret. Like, a baby named Frankie Stina will not thank you." I laughed, and leaned my head on her shoulder.

"Very true." I agreed.

And we eventually fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

_Girls_

_-Amora (Spanish, love.)_

_-Wesley (English, from the west field.)_

_-Lacey (English, lacy.)_

_-Mika (Native American, raccoon.)_

_-Angelina (Italian, messenger of God.)_

_-Alexandria (Greek, city of Alexander.)_

_-Evangeline (English, bringer of good news.)_

_Boys_

_-Alejandro (Greek, defender of men.)_

_-Zachary (Hebrew, God has remembered.)_

_-Abram (Hebrew, father of nations.)_

_-Adrian (Latin, from Hadria.)_

_-Lyric (English, song words.)_

_-Jeremy (Hebrew, God will uplift.)_

It was inevidable that everyone knew by now. Six and a half months, and it was quite obvious. Craig apparently has a "feeling" that it is going to be a boy, but I just have no idea. We went over the list of names that I created, and he's okay with all of them. His favorites are Mika and Alejandro because he thinks they're fun to say. I think if it's a girl, I'm leaning toward Lacey Evangeline. And for a boy I'm thinking Zachary Abram. But then again, then there would be Zach and Jack in the same house, so I just don't know. I still have a few months.

The real story is the one of what happened when I came home from school three days ago. I walked through the door and announced my arrival, but no one answered. I knew that Mr. Simpson was still at school, I guessed that Ms. Nelson was out somewhere with Jack, but I wasn't sure where Emma was. I considered this as I laid my bag down, and took a bowl of rice out of the fridge.

"Emmaleenaaaa!" I called. I heard the toilet in the basement flush and Emma walking quietly up the stairs. When she saw me, she grabbed her chest as if she didn't know I was there.

"God, you scared me."

"Sorry?" I said. I didn't mention that I had called out twice already since I've been home. Emma's face was pale, she kept rubbing her palms on her knees.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Fine." she answered quickly. "Perfect." She pressed her lips together several times and wiped the corners of her mouth.

"Emma..."

"What." she snapped. Suddenly I realized what was most likely happening. Why didn't I notice before? I was probably too busy thinking about the baby than worrying about Emma

...and her eating disorder.


	8. Chapter 8

Seven and a half months. Emma has lost almost 15 pounds in the past month. That's about half a pound a day. When I do manage to get her to eat, she creates an excuse to go to the downstairs bathroom. I can't stop her, and I don't know what to do. I tell her she's killing herself but then she flips out on me and starts off on focusing on my own problems instead of her's. She doesn't understand that her problems _are _my problems. When I see her come out of the bathroom, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, or sitting at the dinner table moving around the food on her plate, making it look like she's eating it, I just feel like I'm so powerless. I want to scream out to her to stop, shake her shoulders and tell her that she's hurting everyone around her, especially herself. I don't know what I would do without Emma. I couldn't stand losing her, and I think that's where this path is leading.

The baby is almost here, I have about a month and a half left. My last day of school is gonna be this Friday. Craig offered to stay home with me, but I told him he was ridiculous and if he didn't go to school I would kill him with my bare hands. He laughed and said okay, but promised he would come see me everyday. We've decided on the names for if it's a boy and if it's a girl, which we still do not know. It's been a good pregnancy, I think. No serious complications, and my stomach is relatively small compared to what I've seen.

I have picked out two names - well four. Two girls names, a first and middle, as well as for a boy. I'll keep them a secret until the time has come.

I was never really a craving-kind-of-girl but this is getting ridiculous. Every hour, I need to eat, and it's not even just needing to eat, it's needing to eat something specific. I need pickles, or peanut butter, or strawberry ice cream. Sometimes it's even really gross things like tomato soup with ranch dressing. Sometimes I can't believe that I'm eating what I am. But then again, I also have a seven month old baby inside me, so apparently, anything is possible.


End file.
